Fluff Tuesdays
by yesimadramaqueen
Summary: Every Tuesday I'll try to post a new fluffy drabble or oneshot. MALIVER. Don't like, don't read. Thank you.
1. July 21st

"If you were a bird, what kind would you be?" River asked as she gazed up at a blackbird flying through the sky.

Mal was working in the field beside her. He had learned to just go with it, whatever direction she pulled him in. "I conjure I'd be an eagle."

"Wrong."

"Wrong? How can I be wrong?"

"I could see you as an eagle, but you can't be one."

"Why can't I?" he frowned.

"You'd be a seagull."

"A seagull? Why a seagull?"

"Because I'm an albatross. Eagles don't live near albatrosses. Seagulls do. Zoe is a raven, Kaylee is a sparrow, Jayne is an emu, Simon is a pelican, and you're a seagull. I'm not an albatross if you aren't a seagull. Do you think you're an eagle?"

"It makes sense to me…"

"Then I am too."

"But you're li'l albatross. You're sayin' I can't call you that now?"

"No. I'm an eagle."

He huffed. "You can't be an eagle."

"Why not? You are!"

"You're……an albatross."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Well I can't go callin' you 'little eagle' now can I? Eagles ain't little! They're big ugly things. Albatrosses are real pretty graceful…little…things. You're an albatross and I'm gonna keep callin' you that!"

"Only if you're a seagull."

"Fine! I'm a gorram seagull! Happy?"

She smiled victoriously. "Pretty graceful little things?"

He turned red. "The birds."

"I knew what you meant, Captain."

That's what he was afraid of.


	2. July 28

"Ouch!"

"Darlin'? Are you okay?"

"Your hands are rough."

"Yeah well…yours are cold."

"They are not!"

"You wouldn't know since they're your hands and they ain't on you!"

"Cold is better than rough. Rough scratches."

"But cold hurts like hell too!"

"They'll warm up."

"I was nice and warm 'till youcame here."

"And I was unscathed until I came here!"

"My hands couldn't of really hurt you that bad. Drama queen."

"I'm not the one complaining about the temperature!"

"Your gorram paws are all over me and they're like ruttin' popsicles!"

"Fine."

"Huh?"

"I'm leaving."

"No wait. River, get back here."

"Can't have you freezing, Captain."

"It's freezin' no matter what. I'll warm up. Don't go."

"Magic word."

"Don't make me say it."

"Say it."

"But-"

"Say it!"

"_Please._ There. I said it."

"Alright. I'll stay, but no more complaining."

"No more complainin'."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

_(I know I'm originally uploading this on a Monday, but I'm going on vacation without internet for the week. I figured I should upload it early instead of not at all.)_


	3. August 4th

Night had fallen beyond the veil of low branches. They had stolen away from town and away from nosey siblings for some time alone.

"Salix x sepulcralis. Weeping willow," she muttered as she ran her hand across the cool grass.

"It's a nice quiet tree to hide under," he whispered into her hair.

She leaned against him just a bit more, tucking her head in between his neck and his shoulder, while he readjusted his arms neatly around her.

"Why is it weeping?" she asked sadly.

He thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Ain't it just the way the tree is?"

"Has to be a reason. Can't be weeping without something to weep about."

"It's just a tree, darlin'. Maybehaps it don't have feelings."

She hit him right in the center of the chest.

"Or," he amended, wincing. "It does."

"Maybe it weeps because it's alone. There aren't any other willows for 2.47 miles."

"Well, it ain't alone right now. It's with me and I'm with you. It works out. Nobody's by their lonesome."

She smiled. "It feels better already."

"It does?"

"It does."


	4. August 11

Mal. There was no other way to describe the way he smelled. Mal smelled like Mal. Musky and masculine. Like gunpowder and aftershave. All of his clothes had the scent woven deep into the fabric.

She ran her hand down his shirt, taking in the soft, subtle texture. She outlined a button here and a button there. Her skin was pale against the dark blue, a cloud in the dark sky. She stopped at his hand and lightly set her fingertips against his.

He lifted his hand up and she pressed hers to his, palm to palm. His fingers neatly tangled themselves with hers. They fit perfectly together like a jigsaw puzzle. He led their hands to his chest where they rested over his heart.

She smiled to herself as he bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"When violet eyes get brighter and heavy wings grow lighter, I'll taste the sky and feel alive again and forget the world that I knew, but I swear I won't forget you…" she whispered.

He looked down at her curiously, the question bubbling in the back of this throat. He decided to just grin and set his head against hers to enjoy the sweet craziness of the sentiment.

"Oh if my voice could reach back to the past, I'd whisper in your ear…oh darling I wish you were here…" she continued, even softer.

"But I am here," he frowned.

"I always wish you were here. If you are, then my wish has come true."

He smiled. "So has mine, darlin'."


	5. August 18th

"River?"

"Here."

Mal found her curled up in the copilot's chair with streaks of semi-dried tears down her face.

"Doc said you were waitin' up here for me. I hear you ain't okay."

She nodded faintly.

"What seems to be the trouble?" he asked softly.

"Crying is said to make you feel better…" she sniffed.

"How's that workin' out for you?"

"I find it ineffective. I hypothesize that a hug would be helpful."

He tightly put his arms around her. She set her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes.

"Why exactly are you feelin' bad, darlin'?" he whispered as he mindlessly stroked her hair.

"You were hurt," she returned as she gently ran her hand across the wound on the back of the shoulder. He winced under her soft fingers.

"You're cryin' 'cause I got scraped?"

"Not scraped, grazed. It hurt a lot. You thought it."

"I'm fine. Doc said so. You shouldn't waste tears 'cause of me."

"Never a waste. Worth every one."

He kissed the top of her head and held on even tighter. "I don't rightly know what I did to deserve that status, sweetheart. I feel the same gorram way."

"But you don't cry."

"For you, conjure I just might."


	6. August 25

He didn't know what would be worse, the doc not knowing where River was, or the doc _knowing _where she was.

Simon said that he'd looked high and low, but River was nowhere to be found. Mal smiled at the concerned doctor and promised that she was still on the ship somewhere. Of course, he left out the where, and for good reason.

"Darlin'," he called.

She opened one eye sleepily. "Captain."

"Your brother's worried. He's been lookin' everywhere for you."

"He has," she nodded as she burrowed into the pillow just a bit further.

He crouched beside her. "What did I say 'bout findin' you in my bed?"

She smiled mischievously at him. "Good things?"

"Way I remember it, I said that you shouldn't be in my bunk 'cause you've got your own."

"Can't rest in my room. Simon pokes. Keeps me up. Wants to jab me with needles. Don't want to be found and stabbed."

A smirk spread across his face. "You're gonna run out of excuses to hide here soon enough."

"Going to run out excuses to _let me_, Captain."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You like it when I'm here. Don't like it when I leave."

He cleared his throat and stood up straight. "C'mon. We have to get you to your brother."

"Not denying it," she teased as she sat up.

"That don't mean that it's true."

"Doesn't mean that it isn't."

He huffed. "It ain't true."

"You're a bad liar. You would have made me leave by now if you wanted me gone."

"Okay that's it. Believe what you want to. I don't rightly care, but if you don't get goin' I'm gonna tell Simon where you are."

"He'll punch you."

"He won't. There's no reason for him to. Nothin' has happened between us."

"…yet…"


	7. September 1st

They rarely fought. Most of the time, they were on the same page about most everything. But when they fought, they fought.

He didn't remember how it all began. That's the way it always was. By the end of the argument, the point was lost in the crossfire. He just knew that he started it, and she finished it.

Whenever they came to blows, it was downright dangerous. It was ten times more explosive and twenty times more hurtful than Jayne's grenades. The crew knew to run for cover as soon as the shouting started.

It had only been twenty minutes or so since the row ended. He was alone in the kitchen licking his wounds.

"Captain."

The voice shook him from his thoughts. Surely it wasn't…

"River. What-"

"Not here to fight," she said quickly. "The probability of one of us dying from natural causes is 4.01%. When you add the likelihood of dying from an accident and fatality caused by a ship malfunction, the probability of death increases to 13.34%. If you add the odds of a death related to our occupations to the overall chance of one or both of us dying, the number increases to an average of 41.68%. Given that figure, the probability of death occurring tomorrow is 7.32%. That means that there's a 7.32% chance that the last thing I said to you will be the very last thing. I didn't like the last thing I said to you."

He smiled at her. "I don't like what I said last neither."

"I love you," she stated seriously.

"I love you too, darlin'."

A small smile broke through. It was quickly replaced with a frown. "I'm still mad at you."

With that, she walked out. He grinned.

"That's my River."


	8. September 8

"I think it went pretty well. Ow," he winced.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Stay still."

He grimaced as she continued to prod. "I'm tryin' to."

She lightly pressed the last butterfly closure on the cut under his eye. "Finished."

"Good. What's the news? Is it deep?"

"No. Could have been worse. Shouldn't have dodged it."

"When someone's fist is comin' right at your face, you'd dodge it too!"

"Right into the infirmary cabinet?" she countered.

"So I'm not the most graceful person in the 'verse. I knew I'd get hurt anyhow, but I thought it would be your brother's doin'."

She hung her arms loosely around his neck. "I wouldn't let him hit you. He needs to process. Give him some time."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her waist. "One down, three to go. If he hasn't told little Kaylee already."

"He has. Two to go."

"Well, I think Zoe knows."

"How?"

"She knows me better than I know myself. I'm sure she knew about us before I did."

She smiled. "Probably."

"So that leaves Jayne."

"_Always_ the last to know."

He laughed. "True enough."

She suddenly looked pensive. "Will they be alright with this? With us?"

"You're the reader. I'm just the captain."

"_My _captain," she corrected.

"_Your _captain. Besides, if'n the crew ain't okay with you bein' _my_ reader, then that's their problem. We'll do what we always do."

"Keep flying."

He smiled. "Exactly right, darlin'. Exactly right."

_**This is my last one. I've had a blast writing these and I hope you've enjoyed reading them. The load at school and work is simply too heavy to continue the weekly updates. I'd like to thank my readers, especially those who have reviewed, subscribed, or favorited. I won't stop writing other fics, so keep an eye out. Thanks again for reading.**_


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